A Smile for An Enemy
by Story Please
Summary: It's time for Snape's yearly evaluation at the hand of Dolores Umbridge. He is nothing but accommodating as always, but there is something more that she requires of him before she will dismiss him. If the plush throne of a chair is any indication, she has begun to think she is the queen of Hogwarts, but Severus knows better than anyone that things are never as they seem.


Author's Note: If I had a nickel for every time some random jerk asked me to smile for them, I'd be able to swim in coins like Scrooge McDuck. This story is dedicated to everyone who wishes they had the power to fight back against unsolicited demands and comments in the most satisfying of ways.

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A Smile for an Enemy

"Well, Severus, it appears that it's time for your annual review." Dolores Umbridge sat atop a gauche pink plush chair like a smug toad atop a throne.

Severus silently noted that the chair looked suspiciously transfigured. He was certain that this was the reason for Minerva's little cat-that-ate-the-toad-and then-hurked-it-up-on-the-Minister's-shoe look at breakfast.

"Indeed, madam," he replied flatly. "That much was clear from your memo."

He held the unfolded paper airplane in question between his thumb and forefinger like an offensive-smelling sock.

"Hem hem," Umbridge said primly, gathering the perfectly stacked papers and tapping them edgewise as though trying to line them up even more perfectly than they already were. "I shall start with the beginning. It may take some time, which is why I summoned you during your free period. You understand that if your review runs into lunch, you shall not be compensated."

"Of course," Severus said, resisting the urge to look at his fingernails to signal how few fucks he actually gave about any of her nonsense.

Umbridge blinked, as though she'd expected more resistance. She tapped at the top of the page with her pen and made a noise not unlike a startled bull. "Very good, _Severus_. May I call you Severus?"

"Referring to teachers as _Professor_ is the Ministry's preferred method of addressing subordinates, as you know," Severus replied, relishing the look of impotent anger that flashed across the so-called Headmistress' face.

"As usual, you are correct, _Professor_" she said after a long, awkward pause that saw her growing pinker and more flushed with fury and himself as cool and blank as ever.

"Thank you, Headmistress. Please continue at your convenience," Severus replied, her rage unable to penetrate his veneer of politeness.

"Your classes have exceptional scores, other than a few...problem children," Umbridge said, sounding honestly impressed.

"I do not allow for foolishness in my classroom," Severus replied, his arms crossed haughtily. This, at the very least, he could be honest about. "Anyone who does not perform to my rigorous standards will find themselves scrubbing bedpans and cauldrons for the duration of the year."

"Very good," Umbridge said, nodding with approval. The cushion underneath seemed to shimmer and bulge for a moment and then went still once more. She seemed not to have noticed it, but Severus eyed it with a more critical eye than before. He decided to move one foot slightly back from the other, in case he needed to move quickly in the opposite direction.

_Whatever Minerva has planned, it can't be pretty_, he thought.

In the silence, he realized that Umbridge was still nodding. Severus supposed that if she nodded long enough, she might actually develop a neck instead of the strangely flappy fold that currently held her head in place.

"Hem hem! It looks as though the Potter boy has gotten absolutely abysmal marks!" Now she was sounding downright gleeful. "At this rate, he'll never be able to qualify for a position as an Auror."

"That is not my concern," Severus replied giving her his most bored stare. "I merely serve as an instructor of the Ministry-approved curriculum. If a student cannot pass our meticulously curated curriculum with exemplary grades while others rise to the challenge, it is obviously due to said student's neglect of their studies, and they have no one to blame but themselves. Hypothetically, of course. I am merely your humble servant."

_Wow, laying it on rather thickly there, Severus, aren't you?_ He thought, trying to suppress a snicker as a pink tendril broke free of the upholstery and began to slowly slide towards Umbridge's ankle.

"All appears to be in order...except one thing." Umbridge smiled, but it was more malicious than it was sweet.

"Please, enlighten me, Headmistress," Severus replied, betraying no emotion on his face even as he unconsciously tensed up.

"I would appreciate it ever so much if you could bring it upon yourself to smile more often," Umbridge said, settling back on her seat, her boot accidentally smashing the tendril between her foot and the leg of the chair. The tentacle made a tiny shocked squeaking sound and darted back behind the chair.

Severus, who had not been expecting this unwelcome advice, felt an expression of shock twist his features into an incredulous scowl. "Beg pardon, madam?"

"We at the Ministry believe that all students should be attended to by professors who provide _service with a smile_. In all of my observations, I have not once seen you do so. Therefore, your evaluation is not complete until I can see that you have perfected the type of smile befitting one of our loyal employees." Umbridge seemed very confident in her pronouncement; so confident, in fact, that she seemed not to realize that a tentacle had wrapped around the ankle of her left boot.

Severus tried to demure. "Surely, madam, you understand my confusion. A smile is not required to fill young minds with the wisdom of a Ministry-approved lesson."

"Oh, but surely you can give me your best customer service smile, _Severus_. After all, you make it a point to be so _phenomenal_ at all of your other assigned duties." Her voice was like acidic honey, wearing holes in Severus' remaining patience.

His eye twitched and he tried another tactic. "I fail to see your point about smiling. It is, after all, a response to positive stimuli, and I can tell you quite honestly that the awful lack of studying and attention to detail I see in my students gives me little to smile about."

Umbridge's smile grew wider, her lips drawing up to the point that if she'd flicked out a long sticky tongue to nab an errant fly, Severus would not have been surprised in the least. "Oh, Severus," she said slowly, as though talking to a child, "Smiling is _easy_."

Severus' other eye twitched, just as a large, pink plush tentacle broke free from the transfigured chair and slithered up and over the backrest, its tip twitching as though searching for its quarry. "Perhaps we should pick this up at a later time...when I am feeling more...cheerful?"

"Oh, I don't think so, Severus," Umbridge replied, leaning forward, her voice growing soft and dangerous even as her lips twisted up more wildly at the ends. "You will smile for me and you will smile for me _now_."

_It figures that despite my absolute deference, the heinous bitch still requires a display of submission_, he thought. His skin crawled every time she'd spoken his name in her horrible little toady voice.

It made sense, though, in a twisted sort of way. Umbridge had always demonstrated a sort of benign-appearing sadism; demanding the very thing her victim wouldn't give her in a million years, regardless of compliance.

"I see," he said thoughtfully, and took a step back just as the tentacle wrapped itself tightly around Umbridge's neck.

Immediately, the Headmistress' eyes went wide and her hands flew to the tentacle, desperately clawing at its slimy, still somewhat plush flesh. Other tentacles had appeared, wrapping around her torso and legs until she was lashed to the "chair," which was growing more slimy and fleshy with each passing moment. She made a strangled sort of sound, and Severus nodded, his face neutral as though she were merely sitting calmly in front of him.

"I can see that you are very adamant about this request," Severus said, finally, even as a tentacle opened up into a small mouth filled with razor sharp fangs and licked Umbridge across the cheek. "Very well."

Umbridge's eyes told Severus of her many unspoken commands- to free her, to hand her the useless wand that sat in a little display case on the wall- but he ignored them.

Instead, he turned away from her for a moment and took a deep breath, clearing his mind of everything except for the task at hand.

He turned back to Umbridge, and both she and the tentacle beast (Severus' mind jumped to the word _Mimic_ though he knew there was a proper term in the Wizarding World for the creature that now held Umbridge hostage) froze instantly.

The smile upon Severus Snape's face was a thing of beauty. It shone on his sallow cheeks like a beacon in a stormy sea. Somehow, his thin lips, his crooked teeth, and his hooked nose took on a whole different tone, and his eyes shone with the sincerity of his smile.

Then, all at once, the smile was gone, hidden once again behind his customary scowl.

"Good day, _madam_," he said with a slight bow in a tone that was quite a lot more sarcastic now that Umbridge was clearly otherwise occupied.

In reply, Umbridge gurgled and her eyes rolled back into her head as the tentacle beast opened its maw wide and swallowed her whole.

With a well-timed blast of his wand, Severus Stupefied the creature and put it in stasis. He would have to speak to Minerva. She would know what to do with a suspiciously lumpy shapeshifting tentacle beast.

As he left Umbridge's office, Severus broke out into a secret smile and whistled a jaunty little tune that, had anyone else heard it, they would not have believed it was him.


End file.
